"Maybe all the excitement was too much for you. Things were coming to a head and you were ready to be king and queen. Now I'm going to tell you something. You never would have made it. That vaccine doesn't make you immune."
This time their eyes met, held a second, and the fear was there all the way.
I said, "We know the story, at least most of it. Now there will be time to dig the rest of it out. Nobody will ever know about it though and that's the way it should be. Maybe now some of this crappy rivalry between countries will slow down and there will be some sensible cooperation. I doubt it, but it may happen for a while and even that's better than nothing. I found your little sheet of onionskin, William, all nicely detailing where those cannisters were
planted and right now every one of them is being located and deactivated. If you don't believe me I'll name a few."
I gave him four and he knew for certain then.
"By tomorrow there will be some other things added. It won't take the pros long to get all the names of your people and the net will tighten quickly and tightly and all your beautiful hopes will go up in smoke."
Something about them had changed. It had started when they looked at each other. It had grown fast, and now they looked at each other again, a resigned look that had a peculiar meaning to it and William Dorn said, "We go nowhere, Mr. Hammer."
"You're going with me," I told him. "Consider yourself lucky. At least here you get due process of law. Your own people would kill you the slowest way they know how."
"They would manage somehow anyway, I'm afraid."
"That's your tough luck," I said.
"No, long ago we prepared for such an eventuality. The preparation was drastic and simply an eventuality, but the time has come and now there can be no other way. We both have been fitted with cyanide capsules, Mr. Hammer. I'm sorry to spoil your fun."
Once more, they looked at each other, both nodding almost imperceptibly, and there was a minute movement of the lines of their jaws.
I could see the death coming on, but they sure as hell weren't going to spoil my fun.
"Too bad," I said. "You still had another way out." I looked at the stubby revolver that was lying on the floor near their feet and very slowly I raised the .45 to my own temple. I pulled the trigger and there was only that flat, metallic click of the hammer snapping shut on nothing.
They both tried to scream a protest at the world and lunged for the gun on the floor at the same time. They could take me with them ... the final pleasure would be theirs after all.
Renée had the gun in her fingers and William Dorn was trying to tear it from her when the cyanide hit them with one final spasm.
And I was laughing in a very quiet room.